


So

by Control_Room



Series: Dear Brother [1]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's, Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Apathy, Family Issues, Gen, mentions of homocide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-11-21 07:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11352537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Who would've thought a trip to a pizza place would lead to so many problems?





	1. Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I am garbage

It was a regular, boring, normal day at Black Hat inc.. But mostly boring. Flug was working on a robot, Dementia was playing on the 3DS Flug built for her birthday, laying on 5.0.5.’s stomach as the blue bear dozed away. And Black Hat… he was being driven up the walls. It was far to calm for his liking, too quiet. He glanced at Dementia and 5.0.5., neither of them being meddlesome, unlike usual. It made him scowl, but he had no reason to be mad. He stalked over to the doctor, who gave him a mood and hardly a second glance. His ear buds were in, and he was probably listening to 21 Pilots. Thing was, he wasn't doing anything wrong, either.

 

A growl escaped his throat, eye twitching behind his monocle. Flug paused in his work, glancing up at his boss with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Jefecito?” he said, putting down his screwdriver and removing his earbuds. “Are you ok?”

 

“Fine,” Black Hat replied, pinching the gap between his eyes. “Just restless. It's too calm today.”

 

Flug nodded in agreement.

 

“It has been exceptionally slow,” he mused. “Maybe we should do something, go out for a bit….”

 

Everyone stared at the inventor in horror. Even 5.0.5. was arisen from his slumber from this monumental event.

 

“What? What did I do?” The bamboozled creator looked quizzically at his teammates. It suddenly dawned on him .He rolled his eyes. “Aw, c'mon guys - even I need to go outside on one in a blue moon.”

 

“Yeah, sure ya do, ya big ol’ turtle,” Dementia joked, closing her gaming device and sliding off 5.0.5.’s tummy. Suddenly, her own stomach growled violently, causing the whole crew to flick their attention to her. She blushed lightly, and then wished for… for flat bread covered with the crushed life of tomatoes, topped with melted cheese… yes, she wanted pizza. “I'm hungry. I want pizza.”

 

At the word, 5.0.5.’s eyes snapped open faster than the speed of light. He had fallen back asleep after Flug's insane and out of character statement, but the moment food was brought into the picture, 5.0.5. was active like a corgi puppy with a new toy. He lunged over to Flug, who he was sure would support his hunger and give him food.

 

“Hey, easy on the ribs,” Dr. Flug wheezed, as the blue bear used a  _ little  _ too much energy to get to the scientist. 5.0.5. apologetically scrambled off him, sitting on his haunches. “Either way, I agree.” He got off the floor. “Pizza sounds great.”

 

“Sure,” Black Hat shrugged. In all honesty, it seemed pretty good. “What place?”

 

The answer he received was not what he expected.

 

“FREDDY’S!” Dementia hollered. 5.0.5. nodded vigorously, pointing at himself. Even Flug looked content with the idea.

 

“Fine,” Black Hat grumbled, tight-lipped. “I hate that place. Too happy.”

 

Black Hat was glad he was grey, because his pale pallor would be visible if not.

Meanwhile, a staff meeting was occurring.

 

“I'm sorry, boys,” Henry shrugged. “All five of the day shift guards, aside from you, Vincent,” he addressed the man in purple (he also was purple) who was standing by the door with a sullen expression, “are playing hooky for one reason or another.  So you four,“ he spoke to the others in the room,” have to take their shifts.”

 

The room suddenly filled with protests.

 

“Jeremy and I stayed up all night yesterday!”  Fritz complained. He had fluffy orange hair and wore glasses. He was extremely skilled with tools and repairs. “And…  _ they _ were really active.”

 

“Of course they were,” Mike snarked. He looked quite like Black Hat, but a smaller, less violent version. He wore his security cap often, covering scars from a surgery he'd rather forget. “It's Wednesday. Hump day!”

 

“Great job Mike,” Scott Cawthon said blandly, and had you seen his eyes, you would have seen them would've roll. However, he wore a large Victorian phone mask covering his whole head. Only Mike and  Vincent had seen under it, in circumstances all wished had never happened. “We give you back your emotions, and you respond with snarky retorts. Applause.”

 

“I would,” Vincent smoothly interjected, half lidded eyes glowing at Scott, “if you were by a telephone pole, Mr. Ring Ring~”

 

Scott's eye twitched.

 

“What?” Jeremy - pure, naive, innocent Jeremy asked, befuddled by such lewd enunciation. He was also rather odd looking (in all reality, Fritz was the only human looking one), with no facial features besides a mouth and eyebrows, as well as a space for his emotions to be conveyed via punctuation marks. It normally was a question mark. “I don't get it….”

 

“Just get through this, and then get your pay,” Mike remarked. “Unless you're too chicken to deal.”

 

“Wha’...” Jerm was more confused than before. “They're just children….”

 

“Heh, never worked the day shift?” Scott chuckled. “Let me tell you, it's absolutely  _ nothing _ like after hours.”

 

“Yeah,” Purple Guy (a.k.a., Vincent) laughed. “After this, you'll never want pizza again, seeing what it goes through here.”

 

“Don't forget it's Wednesday,” Fritz reminded them all. “Most amount of customers, especially by lunch.”

 

“Ugh, it doesn't matter,” Henry cut in. “As long as you all are doing your jobs, you won't get fired. Except you, Vincent. I can't fire any of you without William's permission, and he's your dad, so I doubt he'd let me.”

 

Vincent grinned lazily.

 

“Sir,” Phone Guy, as Scott was nicknamed, spoke suddenly. “Are you planning on repairing Foxy? He's been in bad shape for a long time n-AH’OW!”

 

His phone rang loudly with his outburst, and he expertly spun on his heel to ensnare the wrist of the hand the pinched him. Vincent grinned innocently at him, though his arm was in a bone crushing vice. Though his eyes showed no guilt, his smile was enough to throw anyone in jail. 

 

“Aww, c'mon Mr. Ring Ring,” he teased. “I only wanted to hear y-"

 

“Be gay in your own time, not the company's.” Henry stopped him from finishing the sentence. “I don't pay you to make out.” 

 

“You might as well,” Fritz said with a nonchalant shrug. “Especially with the customers today. You might as well rename the place Fu--"

 

“At-tat-tat,” Mike hushed him, covering Jeremy's ears. “I  _ completely _ agree, but we have young listeners around.”

 

“Spoilsport,” Vincent muttered. “You're no fun.”

 

“Your definition of fun is homicide,” Scott hissed at him under his breath. “Do shut up.”

 

A loud ring beeped from Phone Guy. None of them looked fazed, this was normal.

 

“Alright boys, that's the bell,” Henry announced to them all, leaning out of his seat. “Time to get to your posts.”

  
They all groaned. It was going to be a ridiculously long, long, long day.


	2. Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, so two chapters today!

 

 As the security guards filed out of the cramped office, some mumbling complaints and others grumbling curses, two remained behind. Vincent and Scott. Henry looked between the two, and sat down with a sigh. Phone Guy put his focus elsewhere, twiddling his thumbs. Vincent glanced about the room, whistling an eerie, dark, but catchy, tune.

 

 “What do you two want this time?” Henry asked with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses. “Seriously, if you are going to ask me for a honeymoon leave, I have no clue what I'd do. Probably scream.”

 

 “Sir, we're not in a relationship,” Scott reprimanded him. “I just wanted to reiterate my previous question - is Foxy being repaired or not? I'd like to know now, boss.”

 

 “Will and I are working on it,” he groaned. “We'll try starting tomorrow with repairs, but a whole lot of him was damaged by that pedo freak.”

 

 “But, you have to admit, Foxy did his job,” Vincent tossed in. “Protected the kids. That's what matters.”

 

 “Those things are… doubly true,” Henry agreed with a nod. “I guess that'll be enough motivation to fix ‘em.”

 

 “Thank you,” Scott sighed, then  turned to glare at Vincent, though it lacked true anger. “Vin, unless you have a good reason to be here, get out and go to work, cause I'm not sure if you're aware, the day started already.”

 

 “But Scotty, you're a good enough reason to do anything, you know,” Purple flirted, sly and smooth. Ish. Scott threw his hands in the air in exasperation, spun on his heel a perfect one-eighty, and marched out of the office with an angry huff. Purple started out the office. “Wait! Scott, ya ain't gonna go to work without me!”

 

 Henry waited mutely as Vincent followed ‘his’ Scott down the hall like a puppy to his owner. Nearly the exact moment that the two were out of sight and beyond earshot, he stood up and closed the door. When he got back to his seat, he pulled out his laptop and smiled softly to himself while opening a shared file titled “Keep it PG,” which was in no way anything near something that would be rated PG.

 

 Scott stormed into the dining area, with Vincent following at his heels. Mike gave a knowing look and wink to Fritz, along with a smile he was struggling to hide. Fritz rolled his eyes, but a grin peeked through. Jeremy glanced between the four others, Scott, Vincent, Mike, and Fritz (who was next to him at the time). He turned to Fritz and nudged him to get his attention. Mike noticed as well and “obliviously” strutted over to the soda machine, where the two were stationed. He quickly looked around, scoping the area, smirking like a jerk when he saw Scott trying and failing miserably to ignore Vincent. They were having a sort of one sided conversation, run mostly by Vincent about who knows what, with Phone responding every so often. That was good for the trio, as it meant that they wouldn't notice the chatters.

 

 “What is it, Jeremy?” he whispered, sliding over to them with Coca-Cola in hand. “Something wrong?”

 

 “Uh, no… not a really huge something, at least,” he replied, glancing away for a moment. His question mark shifted into a period of resolve. “Um, you know how, like, everyone ships those two? You know… like how nearly every single person who even sees them interact is like, ‘oh, they're a power couple’? You know?”

 

 “Hmm… yeah, I've noticed,” Fritz agreed slowly. He tossed a confused look to Mike. “It's pretty much gospel. Even the most bigoted homophobe would think they're a cute couple. They've got great chemistry, and anyone can see that.”

 

 “Exactly, which makes what I've noticed even more crazy,” Jeremy responded. “There's one person who doesn't ship them, at all. In fact, they absolutely despise the ship, and would sink it to the bottom of the ocean at the first given opportunity.”

 

 “William,” Fritz said with a curse. Mike and Jeremy stressed at him, unimpressed. “No? Henry? No, he blogs about them, which is a little creepy, but whatever. Uh… Baby, Vin’s little sister? No… is it you? Wait, that's not right… I have no clue.”

 

 “No, it's none of those people,” Jeremy stated and shook his head, black hair swaying. “Isn't it obvious who it is?Painstakingly obvious, actually?”

 

 He sighed when the guards next to him awkwardly switched their focuses, embarrassed about being blind to what even naive Jeremy could easily see was happening. Fritz coughed something that sounded like ‘I feel stupid’. Jeremy tightened his lips and stomped his foot to regain their attention.

 

 “It's Scott. Seriously, who else?!”

 

* * *

 

 

 

 Black Hat barely spoke on the way to Fazbear’s. Which would have been fine, had talking not included yelling. And that meant that he was not road raging, which was horrifically abnormal. Black Hat was the most angry driver on the face of eighty Earths, taking it so far for it to be a “hobby” of his, a very passionate one at that. He'd scream at, roar towards, and terribly insult every driver on the street, often intimidating them off the roads. So this strange change was more than a little disconcerting.

 

 They pulled into the parking lot, and Black Hat swiftly snapped out of his swirling thoughts. A wicked grin spread across his face, and heslammed onto the gas pedal, jolting the whole car forward. 5.0.5. was unaffected (due to his mass), Dementia slid a bit in her seat, but Flug went flying into the windshield. Black Hat’s smug leer expanded, and the insane gal cackled in delight.

 

 “We’re here,” the complacent chief villain announced, squarely stepping out of the vehicle. He waved his hands to open the doors for his team, and made sure to close the door on the Doctor’s lab coat.

 

 “Thanks for the input, Captain Obvious,” he muttered under his breath, yanking himself free and picking up speed to match the others. He got the door and held it for everyone, eventually shoving 5.0.5. through. “We made it, in one piece no doubt.”

 

 The pizzeria was a complete mess, but within the boundaries of health codes and homeliness. At least there were no birthday parties at the time, otherwise the restaurant would have just been a complete recipe for disaster and headaches. They found an empty (and relatively clean) booth seat, claiming it for themselves. 5.0.5. waved at the brown animatronic bear on stage, squealing with euphoria when Freddy waved back. Black Hat suddenly looked slightly queasy, and excused himself to the bathroom. The others rolled their eyes, because of their boss’s track record of ridiculously long restroom length. On his way there, he accidentally bumped into Jeremy, who was making his path to Mike. Neither seemed to notice or care about the fact Scott had leapt over their heads. It was normal for them.

 

 “Did you see that guy in the top hat?” Jeremy asked Mike when he reached him, ticking his head in the direction of Black Hat. “He… uh, he kinda looks like a creepy version of you. And ruder, as well as just as impatient….”

 

 “I saw him alright,” Mike replied, looking at Jeremy with a fire in his eyes that he didn’t have in ages. He was looking at him with such an intensity, he didn’t notice Scott confronting a man with four kids. He had the mischievous look of a man plotting against his arch-nemesis. What caught his eye with Scott, was a loud yell emitting from the man he was accosting as he punched Scott in the face (which was ridiculous, since he was 6”5), followed by a burst of ringing shouted from Scott. “What the h***, Phone Guy?! What’s going on?!”

 

 “He’s the kidnapper!” Cawthon grunted, dodging away from another flying right hook. “The one in the newspaper, those kids aren’t his! Get ‘em outta here, I already called the cops!”

 

 “This is the third criminal in four months, Scott!” Fritz sputtered, rushing forward with Vincent and moving two of the kids to Jeremy. Vincent did the same, but rushed back into the fight, landing with a fist in the kidnapper’s chest. Fritz groaned. “D*** it, Purple!”

 

 The two security guards managed to force the man into submission quite well together, and as wailing sirens were finally heard, a pair of handcuffs were slapped onto his wrists. Scott and Vincent high fived as a cop came in, her badge reading “Officer L. Jones.”

 

 “Nice job,” she chuckled, “congratulating” the two as another duo of cops took the man away. The children were escorted by paramedics and Jeremy, who gave them coloring books. She extended her hand to shake. “I’m Officer Leslie Jones. I’ll have to ask you two a few questions.”

 

 “Sure thing, ma’am,” Scott responded, dusting off his knuckles, inspecting the bandages afterwards. “And those questions are?”

 

 “Uh…” Jones looked confused for a moment, then, “sir, you’ll need to take off your mask. And you need to take off that ridiculous purple body suit.”

 

 “Excuse me?” Vincent retorted, offended. “This ‘ridiculous purple body suit’ is my natural skin color! Not a suit. Jerk.”

 

 “I can’t take off my mask!” Phone Guy objected, hands up. “If customers see my face, it’ll get me fired, or give me multiple lawsuits, would you really do that to a person?”

 

 “Ugh, fine,” she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Do you have a private room or company safe room that we could talk in? Because I’m required by law to see your face.”

 

 “There’s parts and service, maybe?” Vincent suggested, looking toward Scott. “Unless it’s in use. When’s Foxy being repaired again?”

 

 “Not today, maybe not even this month,” he muttered in response, glancing at the forlorn curtain marked out of service. “So yeah. Parts and service it is. Let’s do this now and get it over with.”

 

 They walked to parts and services, and Scott waited with his phone for Leslie to question him, as she went in first with Vincent.

 

 A waiter sighed, rubbing at the place a tray smacked into his head during the fray. Quickly explaining the situation to Fritz, he asked if he could get a ride home. He reluctantly glanced around, and with a groan, agreed. Jeremy watched them leave. He grinned slightly. He never got to do this. He pulled off his security guard hat and badge, replacing them with a shadow Bonnie headband and replacement waiter pin. The black ears blended perfectly with his hair, giving him an even more adorable appearance. He then hopped on up onto the table nearest the animatronics, doing all this within four seconds.

 

 “May I please have everyone's attention?” he said quite loudly, successful in his endeavour. “Thank you. Now, as some of you know and most of you don't, we just caught a criminal here. So, in honor of the occasion, I'd like to ask our resident band of animatronics to perform ode to joy. Chica, intro us if you please?”

 

 The shouldn’t- be- sentient robots exchanged glances, then gave each other a barely noticeable nod. Chica did the universal drum intro, and Freddy started the chorus. Nearly everyone in the restaurant had laughed when Bonnie sang soprano. The only sobering bit of information was the fact the animatronics had not been programmed with neither the ability to take requests or sing anything other than to songs previously programmed.

 

 The two remaining detained security guards exited parts and services, with a clearly disturbed Officer in tow. It was unclear whether she was shaken by the terrifying repair room or by what she saw under the mask. Most likely both in equal measure. The grinning Vincent and no doubt smirking Scott escorted her to the door.

 

 “Come again!” Purple Guy chirped, smiling with a wave. Phone practically shoved her out the door and almost slammed it. He and Vincent exchanged a look, and grinned viciously. If only Scott could see the way Vin’s heart fluttered. “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it, handsome?”

 

 “You bet,” Scott chuckled, slinging an arm around his shorter companion, forgetting all grudges. Fritz, with his mouth hanging open, snapped a picture, but no-one noticed. Scott and Vincent made their way through the restaurant, almost passing the villain's table, but Dementia waved them down. “Yes, Miss?”

 

 “You guys do this often? Arrest people in a pizza place?” she asked, chuckling in a hardly nervous way. She was, after all, and extraordinary actress. “Just seems a little bit…”

 

 “Extravagant?” Flug finished for her, offering the word.

 

 “Yeah, extravagant,” Dementia nodded. “Fanciful, am I right?”

 

 “Oh, heh, yep, it is a bit odd for a place that serves pizza with robots as the main attraction,” Vincent flashed her a grin revealing sharp canines. “But if we arrested every freak that walked through those double doors, county jail’d need another building!”

 

 “Besides, we only have the authority to arrest anyone posing a real threat to the kids,” Scott added, knocking gently on the back of his partner’s head, earning a grin and a sheepish blush. “The animatronics are good at warning us whenever there’s someone who looks particularly threatening. It’s in their programming. It’s quite advanced.”

 

 “That’s cool,” Flug said, genuinely intrigued. “And I like your mask. Quite contemporary.”

 

 “Why, thank you,” he replied with a flourish. “I think yours is quite nice, too. Subtle and simple.”

 

 “Did you record stuff?” the bad doctor asked, cocking his head ever so slightly. “On a phone, I mean.”

 

 “In fact, I do,” Scott chuckled. “Phone calls, for whoever would get my shift after me. A precautionary thing. Uh, it also does an excellent job of passing the time on slow nights.”

 

 “Hey babe,” Vincent purred, making Scott blush under his mask, and cough something that suspiciously sounded like ‘not my boyfriend’. “Do ya mind recording me something nice on your shift tonight?”

 

 “Not in a million years, Purp,” he replied, turning to Dementia while Vincent pouted. “Did you need anything else, ma’am?”

 

 “No, thank you,” Dementia shrugged and smiled. “Just a little curious, after all, stuff like that doesn’t happen everyday.”

 

 “Understood,” Scott responded with a nod, and Vincent could only imagine the smile under his mask. “I’ll be off, then.”

 

 Purple’s half lidded eyes longingly followed him to where he was making his way to the soda machine. He suddenly blinked, realizing he was staring again, sighed, shook his head, and was about to make his own departure after Scott.

 

“If you love him,” Dr. Flug stopped him by raising a hand, taking his straw out from under his paper bag mask. “Maybe get him a present or something. Take him to a restaurant. Take his  shift for a night or two. Bring him a coffee. Visit him every so often.”

 

 “Well, I can’t visit him,” Vin said with a sly grin. “We’re housemates. All us night shift guards. Well… I guess right now we’re all day shift guards. Eh. Also,” he hesitated for a moment, glancing at Scott, “he’s not gay. And he kinda hates me. So I take what I can get, you know? Haha… .”

 

 With that, he just waved to them a goodbye and wandered off, silently cursing himself whenever he found himself wandering over towards Scott. He eventually gave up with an exasperated huff and strutted to his longed after love interest, preparing something to say in his mind. However, he didn’t have a chance to open his mouth to speak to him, as Mike suddenly whooshed by them in a blur.

 

 “Fourteen minutes and five seconds exactly,” he muttered, a devious smirk dancing on his lips. He stopped by the hall with the restrooms. “Any moment now….”

 

 The bathroom opened, and Black Hat (finally) emerged, adjusting his gold linked cuffs. The mockery of a smile spread dangerously further on Mike’s face, anger brimming in his hazel eyes. He waited for the head villain to pass him a bit more, before stepping in right behind him, rage narrowing his eyes.

 

 “Hello,” Mike stated through gritted teeth, Black Hat freezing mid step. “ _ **Brother**_.”


End file.
